Inconsistency
by Amber342
Summary: I swore to hate them forever more. They took my mother. They took my father. And now I must help them or they all will perish.
1. Prologue

**Hey, I'm finally back writing again and would really appreciate some reviews!**

**If you don't know me very well, just know that I love suspense, half the time I don't even know where I'm going with things, and I love chatting!**

**With that, enjoy :) **

Prologue

The tom could barely make out the hoot of an owl over the pounding of his racing heart. His paws thudded with each bound over the slick grass. His mother cried out again and his speed impossibly increased. Wind whistled through the trees and his ears, and crickets sang to the night sky.

The sound of rushing water gradually grew in intensity until the tom reached the river's side. His gray paws skidded in the mud along the bank as another fearful cry split the air.

He started along the bank, keeping his steps soft but purposeful. He weaved among the willows, still unable to see the owner of the frantic calls.

There was a gurgle, a breath, a loud splash, a cry…

Finally, the gray tom broke free of the foliage, now able to see his mother desperately trying to stay afloat as the river currents dragged her downwards and onwards. "Swim to the bank!" he called, "I'll grab you!"

His mother's light blue eyes met his. They were wide and terrified, sending a fresh sense of panic coursing through the tom. The rush of water was quickly growing louder until it turned into a roar.

"_Hurry_!" Both the cats knew what lay ahead.

The silver she-cat clawed the water with all her might, although her muscles were already so numb she couldn't feel anything but water trying to force itself down her throat and into her eyes and ears. She struck out for the bank with two powerful kicks with her back legs, her front paws extended towards the brush. Her claws caught.

"Help!" the desperate she-cat yowled, struggling to hold on.

"I'm coming! Hold on!" Willows again blocked his path, slowing his progress as the river rushed on. "It's too thick! I can't-!"

Her grip loosened and fell and the silver cat went under. The gray tom crashed from another clump of undergrowth and saw that there wasn't much more room to run. By the time the she-cat resurfaced, it was too late.

The roar of the drop off was deafening, but it didn't cover the bloodcurdling scream.

"No! Silvermist! _Silvermist_!"

But within seconds Silvermist's screams were silenced with a horrible thud on the rocks below.


	2. Chapter 1

**Thanks so much for the reviews! Really appreciate the feedback :)**

**I can promise you right now that I will never update this soon again; it's just that I have another chapter already written. Actually, I'm almost done with the second chapter as well so maybe I will update again very soon. Otherwise, I'll hopefully be every four days or so, if you review!**

**Anywho, hope you like the characters. Enjoy :)**

Chapter 1

Thin, brown blades of glass rose from the ground, smothering the morning's light from the two cats that passed between the waving stalks. A stiff breeze caused the prairie to move and swirl like the sea they had left behind. A dark gray cottonwood towered over the long grass, spilling tufts of white hair into the wind. Its fine-toothed leaves were yellowed around the edges, a sign of autumn.

"I can't believe Crevicestar is making me live with them," one of the cats growled, gripping the soil tightly in his claws with one paw and yanking upwards, bringing inevitable death to the stalk that was uprooted.

His companion watched the motion uncomfortably, his white neck fur raising only slightly, before bringing his gaze upwards. Their eyes met, blue on blue, and, as everyone did, the white tom looked away. "You would just leave them to die?"

"Why not?" The first's dark blue eyes dared a challenge, although his posture remained only lightly tense, as if he was serious yet amused at the same time.

The white tom had been avoiding his companion's gaze, however, and so replied, "Oh, come on. You wouldn't actually…?" When he finally looked he found complete sincerity in the ocean blue depths.

"I'm sure StarClan would save them eventually." A gray paw uprooted another stalk and a white-tipped tail flicked with anger.

The white tom looked away again, confused and uncertain as to how the gray cat was feeling. One minute he thought he understood and the next minute his companion's body language would confuse him all over again. "What if they didn't?"

The gray tom answered almost immediately, "Then it's their fault their medicine cat didn't train an apprentice before she died."

The white tom wasn't sure how to reply.

The waving brown stalks slowly gave way to thick green grass and tall blazing stars, their spiked heads a brilliant rosy purple. The breeze came stronger, buffeting the cats no longer protected by the long grass.

"You're all talk. I don't believe you," the white cat finally managed, struggling to breathe with the wind.

The gray tom had his head down, and although his eyes quickly began to water, the position protected his nose and mouth from the blasts. He didn't reply but noticeably slowed when he managed to see what lay ahead.

A river cut through the purple flowers, scarring the landscape like a wound that would never heal… or a memory that could never be forgotten. The gray cat attempted to hide his initial hesitation by quickly beginning to travel upstream along the bank. The golden water sped by him at a breathtaking pace, smashing into the large stones that dotted its path and foaming with effort.

The white tom followed his companion for a few paces before slowing to a halt. Beside him was a section of the river that considerably thinned, the water forced to crowd between two large stones that managed to grip the banks, one on each side, with the help of the roots of willow trees. Another rock, relentlessly pummeled by the angry water, served as a stepping stone between the others.

"Hey, why don't we cross here? These stones have moss to grip onto."

The gray cat made the mistake of looking back.

_He weaved among the willows, clawed through the undergrowth, cursed himself for not moving faster... If he had, the mossy rocks would have been the best chance he had to reach out and snatch his mother from the water. But now that time had passed, and the silver she-cat was dragged further toward the inevitable…_

He could still hear the splash of her flailing paws, the sound of her desperate cries, the thud of her body hitting the rocks…

"Cavepool?"

Cavepool closed his eyes, struggling to control his breathing. He turned away as calmly as possible, although his whole body was shaking uncontrollably.

"Cavepool?" the white tom repeated, worry in his light blue eyes. He had never seen Cavepool like this.

"I think there's drier rocks ahead."

The white cat nodded, although his companion's back was to him. He followed uncertainly, doubting there was a better place to cross but not willing to say anything.

The stones the gray tom chose were just beyond the clump of willows and soaked with spray from the water's violent beating. They were battered so constantly that moss couldn't grow and their slick edges were smoothed from the abuse.

The white tom couldn't help but voice his fears. "I'm not sure about this. Why don't we-?"

"I'm crossing here. Do whatever you want."

"Cavepool…"

"I'm fine. Just go."

"But-"

"_Go._"

The white tom backtracked to the moss-covered stones and, with two carefully calculated jumps, cleared the river easily. Cavepool was waiting for him further upstream, his thick gray fur outlined by the field of yellow wildflowers beyond him and his usual regality already reestablished.

"You have steady paws for a medicine cat," the white cat huffed, out of breath from the relentless wind and the nerve-wracking river crossing.

Cavepool's eyes didn't hide his amusement. "You think medicine cats aren't good at anything other than herbs?"

"No, I mean-"

"I know what you mean." This time his voice had a hint of annoyance as he turned around to head upstream again and again the white tom couldn't decide what to think.

A forest of dark elms, soft green hackberries, berry-filled ashes, and elegant, young aspens began, sheltering the cats from the wind. Lush sedge appeared in thick clumps and the numerous black raspberry bushes were picked clean by hungry animals. Walking parallel to the river, the slope was greater than the prairie but less steep than in the cats' own territory.

"How much farther?" Cavepool asked.

"I think their camp is just over this ridge." The white tom had never actually been on the rival Clan's territory before, but he had gleaned that much from the few Gatherings he had attended.

Cavepool looked back. "Their camp is that close to the border?"

"Well, the river gives them everything."

Cavepool's dark blue eyes hardened. "The river takes. It doesn't give," he growled.

The roots of a fallen tree still half-clung to the top of the ridge while its trunk decayed and pale orange mushrooms grew around it. Further along the ridge it became rocky and treacherous until a waterfall split it in two. The river was so clogged with rocks at the top that the water was much calmer before the drop, providing an oasis for fish. After that, the river cut through the prairie and made one more long drop before spilling into the sea.

"Is that why you hate them?" the white tom asked after another long walk in silence, "Because of your mother?"

Cavepool's jaw clenched. "My reasons don't matter."

"Reasons do matter. You can't hate RiverClan because their river took her."

Cavepool had long ago mastered his emotions but even so barely kept his seething anger in check. His voice was powerfully low. "You know _nothing_."

"But I-"

"Drop it, Whitefroth."

The two cats traveled in silence down the opposite side of the ridge toward a clump of towering willows that clung to the river like feeding insects. Their furrowed trunks were incredibly thick and underneath their roots were spacious dens, damp and cool from the river. Their leaves were so thin and hung down in such soft clumps that it looked like pale green fur draping the forest floor.

"Wow," Whitefroth breathed, "RiverClan's camp is beautiful. I wish our camp was like this."

Cavepool huffed.

.

Honeypaw's POV

Sunlight pooled on the moss beneath a young she-cat's paws. She was awake but sitting on her haunches, her tail flicking apprehensively. Her light green eyes were glazed over; her thoughts had consumed her.

"Honeypaw?" whispered a voice from behind her.

Honeypaw didn't even flinch. She knew her brother's voice. It was Puddlepaw. "Do you think Cavepool is here yet?"

"I hope not."

Her brother stepped up beside her. They were identical, save for Honeypaw's light ginger paws. He gave her a nudge before grooming his own white fur, straining his neck to reach his side.

"Do you think he's always like what he was at the Gathering?" Honeypaw asked. She barely restrained a shudder as she thought of his cold blue eyes, his regal stance… the aura around him that seemed to affect everyone. Not even RiverClan's previous medicine cat had ever approached him. The gray tom just sat alone, in silence, watching… always watching.

Her brother caught the uncomfortable shift in Honeypaw's weight and his green eyes glinted in amusement. "You're scared of him."

Honeypaw shifted again. "Like you aren't," she replied defensively.

Puddlepaw let out a disbelieving huff. "Cavepool is nothing more than a medicine cat. He doesn't scare me." Honeypaw said nothing. "Besides, we probably won't even have to see him. Unless you get injured doing something stupid, which you probably will."

Puddlepaw stretched dramatically, looking back to see if his sister would retort, but Honeypaw was silent. The thought that she would hardly even see SeaClan's medicine cat gave her hope and now her mind was forming a picture of the more favorable situation of that occurring.

Disappointed with the lack of response, Puddlepaw padded into the sunlight. His sister soon followed and the two emerged into the surprisingly relaxed atmosphere of the RiverClan camp. There were a few more cats lounging in the clearing than usual, probably in the anticipation of Cavepool's arrival, but none seemed perplexed or uneasy. Honeypaw felt her tense muscles relax.

Unfortunately, the calm before the storm didn't last long. It was barely three steps into the clearing before Honeypaw looked towards the ridge in front of camp and froze.

_He's here_.

First it came as a disbelieving first thought. Then her mouth formed the words but no sound followed. A strange panic had choked her. She hadn't expected that when she saw him she would feel so emotionally jarred, but something about his distant form had completely overwhelmed her. His steps were purposeful but tense. His tail wasn't flicking angrily, but it wasn't still either. And then he was close enough that she could look right into his dark blue eyes. Their gazes met and Honeypaw stumbled backwards as if struck. Hate. Searing hate. That was all she saw in those blue depths. That was all she could feel as it seemed to spread from his core like wildfire. Everything about him radiated it. Even the willows seemed to draw back in fear.

Puddlepaw nudged her roughly, snapping her gaze from those intoxicatingly terrifying eyes. "What's your problem?" he growled.

"He's here," Honeypaw whispered, her voice shaking, gesturing with her head toward the approaching figure.

Even Puddlepaw's eyes widened when he saw him, but Honeypaw was concentrating too hard on calming herself down to mention it.

"Nightstar!" someone called out, "Where's Nightstar?"

"In her den, why?"

"Cavepool's here."

The camp's atmosphere changed in an instant. The few cats that had regained their composure enough to move were fetching others that were in their dens. The clearing soon filled with a variety of colored pelts. Honeypaw made her way through the uneasy crowd to an elevated willow root in the back. She didn't want to miss anything.

The crowd suddenly parted and at first Honeypaw assumed it was for the newcomers, who had reached the entrance to the camp, but she soon picked out a black she-cat padding proudly through the gap, followed by her deputy.

"Cavepool," the RiverClan leader meowed when she reached him, dipping her head. "Welcome to RiverClan."

"Nightstar." The words were hard but emotionless. Cavepool's eyes revealed everything, and he didn't dip his head. "This is Whitefroth." The gray tom didn't even gesture to his companion. His gaze was locked on Nightstar.

Honeypaw hadn't really noticed the white tom that was trying to make himself as small as possible under the gazes of the RiverClan cats. Even so, Honeypaw could hardly believe that a cat could be larger than Cavepool, but she guessed that the medicine cat only seemed so big because of the aura around him. She tried to remember back to a Gathering where she had seen Whitefroth, but nothing came. She wondered why he was the one chosen to escort Cavepool. Were they friends?

Nightstar respectfully nodded to Whitefroth and Whitefroth mirrored it before shrinking back. The black leader then moved aside to introduce her deputy. "This is Rainfall."

Rainfall stepped forward and reluctantly dipped his light gray head, though it looked like he wanted to attack Cavepool right then and there. The irascible tom was a great deputy under Nightstar, but Honeypaw often wondered what SeaClan would be like with Rainfall as leader. Tensions would certainly be high between the Clans.

"Cavepool," the deputy stated, hostility obvious in his tone.

Cavepool didn't move but Honeypaw watched carefully as his eyes seemed to blaze. In fact, they were livid. The antipathy was so obvious that the crowd became uneasy, and even egotistical Rainfall took a step back from surprise. The most terrifying part to Honeypaw was that, although his stance was tense, nothing more revealed his fury… only those eyes. She knew even now that those eyes would haunt her dreams.

It wasn't until Cavepool had settled that Nightstar spoke again. "We'll send a patrol to bring Whitefroth back to the border. You can say goodbye and then I'll show you your den."

"Who's my apprentice?" Cavepool asked abruptly.

Nightstar shifted uncomfortably. "You'll meet her later. Once you get settled."

Cavepool was silent as if he didn't care either way, so Nightstar turned and began to give orders.

Honeypaw was put on the patrol, and she nervously made her way through the dispersing crowd. She heard the whispers as she passed by.

"Disrespectful. Horribly disrespectful."

"Did you see the way he looked at Rainfall?"

"I thought he was going to murder him right then and there!"

"We can't trust him."

"We'd be better off on our own."

Honeypaw reached the two newcomers, just in time to hear them say their goodbyes.

"Promise me you'll help them," Whitefroth begged in a low voice.

Cavepool glared into space.

"_I promise they'll get what they deserve_."


	3. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for the reviews! I wouldn't be writing this without them!**

**Lots of flashbacks this chapter. Hope that's alright. I had trouble deciding what perspective to do this in, but I think I'm going to keep it mostly in Honeypaw's.**

**Anywho, enjoy :)**

Chapter 2

Rockcliff's POV

Many Moons Earlier

A gray-muzzled tom struggled to his paws at the hushed sound of anxious voices outside. He padded to the entrance of the elder's den, hesitating for a moment before emerging into a quiet camp. The dark brown elder moved into the shadows and sat, his old muscles already protesting at the smallest of movements. Soon, he wouldn't even be able to get up at all, but none of that mattered now. He could sense that a terrible tragedy had just occurred. Cats were huddled near the nursery, murmuring to the newcomers that streamed in from the surrounding dens and shushing them when they couldn't restrain a gasp.

Rockcliff watched the proceedings in solemn silence. He may not be too involved in the inner workings of the Clan, but he knew that the nursery wasn't expecting any births. He just prayed to StarClan that whatever had happened had not taken the life of his favorite kit, the kit that came to visit him every sunrise to listen to his stories.

"_Evekit. What a surprise."_

_Evekit, her light blue eyes sparkling, was too young to catch the lightly humorous sarcasm in Rockcliff's voice. "But I come here every morning!" she protested._

_Rockcliff chuckled before changing stiffly to a sitting position. "What would you like to hear about today?"_

_Evekit sat in front of him, her silver tail curling around her paws. She thought about it for a moment while Rockcliff eagerly anticipated a request for another story about the great battles of the past. He had begun to tell the same stories over and over again, but he enjoyed putting a new spin an overused tale._

"_I'd like to hear about you."_

_Rockcliff at first was not surprised. He again expected a request for his part to play in some of the already told adventures. "What about me?" he inquired._

_Evekit, knowing now what she wanted, burst out eagerly, "Your family! …And your friends when you were my age! …Or an apprentice!"_

_Rockcliff avoided her gaze, his fervor dissolved. "I don't think you want to hear about that…"_

"_Why not?" Evekit asked, light blue eyes wide and her curiosity aroused by his dismissive response._

_The dark brown tom shook his head. "Let's just say I didn't have an easy childhood."_

_Evekit's gaze was unwavering. He had her full attention now. "But you seem normal!"_

_Rockcliff's green eyes hardened in a determined, resilient way. "I learned how to cope."_

Suddenly, the SeaClan medicine cat appeared from the mouth of the nursery, snapping Rockcliff from his thoughts and silencing any remaining sound from the clearing. She looked around at the waiting faces, her eyes solemn and glazed. Silently, she stepped aside and another cat slowly took shape beside her. The second cat held a limp body in her jaws, and her silver tail dragged in the dirt behind her.

Rockcliff sucked in a breath as he watched Silvermist slowly moved to the center of camp. He didn't believe it. He couldn't believe it. The tiny kit who had questioned him with her bright gaze a few days before was now hanging lifeless in her mother's grip. A young life with so much potential so easily snatched by the merciless claws of sickness… Rockcliff allowed one tear to spill down his cheek before hardening himself. He had learned how to cope. _Don't focus on the future that was taken. Focus on what took it. _But how could he exact revenge on a sickness?

A gray kit stumbled after Silvermist, giving a single pathetic whimper and once again wrenching Rockcliff's heart. He had never understood Cavekit's unusual silence or his unnervingly revealing eyes, but he couldn't stand to look at the poor creature that had lost both siblings in less than two days. It reminded Rockcliff of himself.

The silence in the camp grew unbearable as Silvermist gently laid her daughter down and barely four-moon-old Cavekit prodded the unmoving body in confusion. "Wake up!" His squeaky voice pierced the silence, sending shivers down Rockcliff's spine.

SeaClan's leader, Wavestar, stepped out from the crowd. "Another victim of the sickness," he said quietly but with an edge. The white tom often spoke to the Clan as if he were murmuring to himself, but this time his voice, which was not too loud but at least temporarily stopped the eerie silence, was almost soothing. "It's spreading somehow…" he murmured.

Someone from the crowd spoke up. "We have to quarantine anyone that was possibly in contact with a sick cat."

"Yes," Wavestar whispered, thinking for a moment. He looked up suddenly and fixed his gaze on the lifeless kit. "Silvermist, you have to dispose of it," he stated abruptly.

Silvermist snapped from her trance and turned her head to glare at Wavestar with a mad desperation in her wet eyes. "She's not an _it_. She's a… Sh-she _was_ a…" But her short-lived anger instantly collapsed into tears. Cavekit backed away from his sister, overwhelmed by his mother's ferocity. He watched her every move in fright.

Wavestar shook his head, his eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, I… We can't have more sick cats. This is for the best, isn't it? Yes, it's for the best. We'll still have a vigil. Yes, just without the body."

Silvermist nodded. At least, Rockcliff thought it was a nod. Her whole body was shaking with grief, a characteristic she passed on to her only son, who watched the events that followed with a heartbreaking silence. The kit's blue eyes were glazed and unfocused.

For Rockcliff, everything was a blur. He faintly remembered some members of the crowd finally encouraging Silvermist to once again pick up her lifeless daughter and begin the agonizing journey into the forest. He faintly remembered the rest of the camp gathering around Wavestar, who struggled to give orders without arguing with himself. He faintly remembered cats filing into the medicine cat den, marking the beginning of a remarkably short-lived but consequentially important quarantine. But the entire time, Rockcliff couldn't tear his gaze away from the small kit alone in the center of camp. He didn't know what the lonely kit was thinking, but he did know – or at least he thought he knew – the best way for Cavekit to cope with the fresh wounds of loss.

_Revenge._

Rockcliff fought his aching muscles in order to reach Cavekit's side. The gray kit didn't acknowledge him, so the elder leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Do you know who took your sister?"

Cavekit finally looked up, his blue eyes wide.

Rockcliff continued in a low voice, "RiverClan did. They sent this sickness. They took your sister."

Cavekit was young, but the words easily sunk in.

_RiverClan took your sister._

His eyes narrowed, a tiny spark forming in their depths.

But this was only the beginning…

.

Honeypaw's POV

Honeypaw reached the top of the ridge, heading back from the border towards RiverClan camp. She passed the fallen tree, seeming to notice it for the first time in a long while. She remembered the time the great tree had toppled, crushing any living thing in its path. Now, the trunk was full of life. Moss covered almost every inch of its peeling bark. Mushrooms clung in clumps between patches absent of green. Insects hid in every groove.

Honeypaw looked to her right, her pace slowing as she picked her way down the hill. Her brother had also made a marvelous transformation, from a lazy kit with a knack for trouble to a determined apprentice ready to become a full-fledged warrior.

"Auburnpaw?" Honeypaw inquired suddenly.

"What?" Auburnpaw snapped, keeping his hazel eyes fixed ahead.

Honeypaw gazed at her brother's ginger fur, hoping he would turn and acknowledge her, but he never did. None of her brothers ever did. Puddlepaw tried to talk to her sometimes, although it never seemed to be positive. Yet, she almost wished they would insult her. Anything would be better than this grudging tolerance.

Honeypaw finally looked ahead, tired of wishing and hoping. "Do you think Whitefroth was Cavepool's friend?"

Auburnpaw snorted. "Who would ever be friends with Cavepool? That cat's a creep."

Honeypaw, encouraged by his response, pressed on. "Why do you think Whitefroth was chosen to go with him then?"

Auburnpaw opened his mouth, but Honeypaw would never know if he had been about to truly answer her question. His hazel eyes flicked to the ground and back up again. "Who cares."

Honeypaw's light green gaze was locked on Auburnpaw's, her voice rising with desperation. "Has Cavepool always been this way?"

He didn't hesitate this time. "How should I know?"

"There's gotta be-"

"Do you ever _shut up_?"

Honeypaw slowed, stung and hurt. Auburnpaw sped up until he was just a step behind his mentor. His ginger tail flicked back and forth with annoyance. He didn't look back, not even when they reached the camp entrance.

Honeypaw padded dejectedly into camp, giving up hope for any apology. She watched Auburnpaw reach Puddlepaw and Ashpaw and begin to talk excitedly. Then, all three of her brothers turned to look at her, two hazel and one green gaze mocking her with intensity. Honeypaw felt frozen in time. She wanted to run away, to shrink into nothingness, to _die_… Then, it was over. The toms turned back to each other and their laughter rang just loud enough for Honeypaw to hear. Suddenly, as she had thousands of times, she was jolted back to that fateful day when everything had changed between them.

"_Honeykit, come on!"_

_Honeykit shook her head, her light green eyes clouded with worry. She attempted a harsh whisper but the words came out shakily. "It's… It's dangerous! You can't go out there!"_

_Ashkit stopped at the base of one of the willow trees that surrounded RiverClan's camp. He looked back, his gray pelt fluffed up in anticipation but his hazel eyes cross. "Come on! Nothing's going to happen!"_

_Honeykit took a step backwards. "You're only going 'cause Auburnkit is!"_

"_Hey, what's the hold up?"_

_Auburnkit appeared from the undergrowth just outside of camp. Twigs and grass clung to his ginger fur and his hazel eyes were bright with excitement._

_Ashkit's voice was a forced sneer. "Honeykit's scared."_

_Puddlekit appeared beside the two kits, Ashkit repeated his statement with the same intonation, and then all three brothers' stares were on Honeykit. She shrunk back._

_Puddlekit stepped forward, his light green gaze softer than the others. "You don't have to come with us." His white paws kneaded the ground in anticipation, so Honeykit couldn't tell if he was being kind or if he just wanted to get out of there. "You can stay here," he whispered._

_Honeykit nodded and, although not sure of Puddlekit's intentions, temporary relief coursed through her. Ashkit turned to Auburnkit, waiting for him to lead the way. The ginger tom only lingered a moment, his stare intense, as if he scarcely believed his sister wouldn't want the adventure of leaving camp for the first time. Then he turned to leave and the white and gray kits beside him followed suit. Honeykit's worry came back with a vengeance. What terrible things were waiting outside the willows? What if one of them got hurt? What if one of them fell into the river? The thought of Puddlekit's white paws flailing against the unrelenting current sent nervous jolts through her body. She opened her mouth to call them back, to stop them, to warn them._

_Auburnkit's final words silenced her. They were laced with potential malice. "Don't you _dare_ tell _anyone_ we're gone!" Then, three tails disappeared into the undergrowth._

"Honeypaw?"

The soft voice snapped her from her thoughts and she forced her clouded gaze away from her brothers. She barely kept from stumbling backwards as her gaze locked with that of Cavepool. Her heart, which was already racing, pumped faster.

"Honeypaw, you okay?" the same voice as before inquired with concern, but Cavepool's lips hadn't moved.

Honeypaw blinked hard, confused beyond belief, before a black form slipped between her and the medicine cat.

"Honeypaw," Nightstar stated forcibly.

Honeypaw's eyes widened. "Oh, Nightstar!" She struggled to regain her composure, not sure whether to dip her head, so she half-did shakily, looking like her execution was imminent.

Nightstar chuckled. "Lost in thought?"

"Y-yes." Honeypaw shifted her weight, feeling immature and upset. She was still badly shaken from her brothers' scorn, and now she was making a complete fool of herself in front of her leader. The worst part was that Cavepool had moved into the corner of her eye's line of view and was staring at her intently, his gaze surprisingly curious.

Nightstar glanced back at him for a moment. When she looked back, she asked, "Would it be alright if you were there when Cavepool met his apprentice? I know you and Willowpaw are friends."

Honeypaw opened her mouth although no words came. She had almost forgotten about poor Willowpaw who would be under Cavepool's constant hateful glare, judging her every syllable. Honeypaw barely restrained a shiver as she gave the tiniest of nods. Nightstar nodded back, somewhat relieved, before turning to Cavepool and nodding again. As Honeypaw followed the two cats across the moist, dark soil of the camp, she again was drawn into her thoughts.

"_Honeykit?" a voice asked from behind her. "What are you doing over here? Why are you pacing? Why are you alone? Where are your brothers?"_

_Honeykit stopped her nervous pacing long enough to see the owner of the worried voice. It was Willowkit, herself on the brink of pacing seeing her friend so upset. She barely had time to sigh in relief before the white she-kit rattled off more questions._

"_What's going on? Where's Puddlekit? Where's Auburnkit and Ashkit? Why are you pacing? Why aren't you answering me? What's going on?"_

_Honeykit shook her head desperately, which didn't answer a single question. She sat down next to the same willow Ashkit had been near many moments before. Honeykit had been sick with worry long enough that a hunting patrol had left and come back. "They've gone into the forest!" she finally exclaimed. "I don't know what to do! They told me not to tell!"_

"_When did they leave? Why aren't you with them? Why didn't you stop them?"_

_Honeykit was so used to her friend's rambling that she didn't bother to reply. She only let out a squeaky whisper. "They should be back by now!"_

"_What if something happened?" Willowkit asked, mirroring Honeykit's exact thoughts. "You have to tell someone! What if they got hurt?"_

_Honeykit nodded furiously, reinforced by Willowkit's words. She got to her paws, raced to the nearest warrior, and spilled everything. The cat happened to be Swiftrapids, the deputy, so soon the whole camp had leapt into action._

_The search didn't take long. They were found by the river, watching the fish and rolling around in ecstasy. They were unharmed and happy, but joy didn't last long when their deputy, then their leader, then their Clan looked down on them with angry relief._

"_These three kits are almost six moons old. However, due to recent events, their apprentice ceremonies will be delayed another moon."_

_Honeykit tried to keep her eyes on Nightstar, but she could feel the glares of her brothers. Trust was shattered. They didn't blame themselves for this, for leaving camp, for putting their lives in potential danger. No. They blamed Honeykit for telling, for snitching, for betraying them. Half a moon later, Willowkit and her two brothers joined Honeypaw in apprenticeship. How they sneered at the three older toms that were still 'kits'. And how their anger, like the river's current against Puddlekit Honeykit had feared, was unrelenting._

_When would the mistrust end?_

_Would it ever?_


End file.
